


Bubble Bubble, Toil and Trouble

by storiesthestarstell



Series: Welcome To The Modern World [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bubble tea au, Cafe AU, Claude is both disaster starter and disaster manager, F/M, M/M, Minor Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia, byleth is bad at feelings, byleth is crushing hard, cat! sothis, claude is super obvious but byleth is super oblivious: a saga, embarrassing claude hours, flayn is an advocate for romance, hilda is best wingwoman, i will die on my deathkeeper hill, jeritza/gatekeeper: a concept, just let me have byleth and jeritza as deadpanning best buds, sothis is no. 1 claudeleth shipper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24837916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesthestarstell/pseuds/storiesthestarstell
Summary: Byleth Eisner likes to think she has a knack for a few things, even if everything else about her is pretty lackluster:a) A 95% accuracy on guessing people's favorite teas based on first impression (which serves useful at the family-owned boba shop she works at)b) Befriending distrustful beings (prime examples including a fluffy nap-loving gremlin with the temperament of an ancient grandmother, and her dark-knight aesthetic-donning best friend who'd rather die than admit his crush on her cute colleague).c) Calm perfected in both 'resting dead face' and state of mind in any crisis (even if she manages to embarrass herself completely in front of the most gorgeous man she's ever seen).Talking has never been one of her strong suits, but the handsome stranger with the verdant gaze--who begins frequenting The Captain's Cups daily now--seems to make wordplay as easy as breathing. It's a shame she's nowhere near as witty, given how she's wondered why his smile's never reached his eyes (alongside other things that will join her on her deathbed.)But little does she know that he's been thinking about her too.And one little slip up causes his friends to give him hell for it.
Relationships: Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia, Gatekeeper & My Unit | Byleth, Gatekeeper/Jeritza von Hrym, Golden Deer Students & Claude von Riegan, Hilda Valentine Goneril & Claude von Riegan, Jeritza von Hrym & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: Welcome To The Modern World [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970173
Comments: 69
Kudos: 166





	1. Oh, To Be A Modern Woman Crushing On A Handsome Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth gawks at the prettiest man she's ever seen.  
> Sothis accidentally becomes the best instigator of romance in history.  
> Claude repeatedly enters and exits the chat in his head as Petra holds the lone brain cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this whole thing started because a) I love bubble tea and b) my wonderful friend Abby decided to write that ONE chapter in her series of fic that hurt me. Y'all should read Hilda & the Fawn when you can. It is *chef's kiss*.

The day Byleth had to explain to Flayn that the concept of a school of fish did not equal speed dating for the underwater creatures, was the day that she would finally understand why all the maidens in her younger cousin's romances were always aflutter when their love interests entered the scene.

But in all honesty, Byleth hadn't ever expected to experience the sort of 'meet-cutes' Flayn often spoke about while at work.

The Captain's Cups was a strange amalgamation of both ocean-themed cafe and bubble tea shop. Flayn was known to often lose herself in her thoughts, dreaming up fantasies that rarely translated well into the real world. However, her choice in interior design for the establishment—pretty marine life murals painted across all four walls, cerulean ombré carpets that reminded one of the sea, and the tasteful scatter of plywood furniture that had various fluffy cushions and soft toys resting on the seating—had served to create a relaxing underwater atmosphere.

The day had been bustling with activity, with early morning preparations having her toil over preparing proper tapioca pearls and baking desserts alongside Eddie, who worked as both waiter and baker. They and Cyril—stayed in the backroom to unpack ingredients and deliver online orders —usually worked on the pastries early on before Flayn arrived, ready to arm the cashier and parallel Eddie's enthusiasm for greeting potential customers. 

Byleth was beginning to find that her initial guess on the sheer number of customers had been accurate, from the moment she stepped out the door of her apartment with her fluffy gremlin in her backpack, and was met with a heat not unlike the warmth of a frying pan on-top a newly lit stove.

In all fairness to her (and her heart), the day should have come with a bit of a warning. Perhaps the weather report could have been more accurate on the levels of scorching the temperature would have been. Perhaps her cat, for once, could have decided to stay at home instead of insisting Byleth bring her to the shop like the ancient primadonna she was. 

Then again, if neither variable had been involved, perhaps Byleth would never have met him.

And that would have been a tragedy in it of itself. 

First-time faces didn't really stick out to her that often, especially during the chaotic shifts between taking orders and fixing drinks. But the flow of people had begun to lull mid afternoon, with only a few chatting quietly in their seats, so Byleth was paying more attention to Flayn's subjective argument about the love lives of fictional marine life.

"But imagine the possibilities! With all those fish in the same group, travelling for extended periods of time, wouldn't they eventually establish stronger bonds with each other and fall in love?"

"Being in a school helps fish survive, Flayn. From predators. And for finding food."

"Well, it provides quite the situation to imagine love, with all the potential danger and adventure they could go on. After all, it's the latest feature in the new romance I am enjoying!"

"...Are you telling me that you actually found a romance book that features fish that think like people?"

"That wouldn't be the strangest thing I've heard out of context, but you've certainly caught my attention now."

The reply that came was light with amusement, like sunbeams made tangible to warm the soul, and was from a voice that belonged to neither Flayn nor Byleth, just as the older girl felt something butt against her ankles. Reaching down, Byleth gathered the fluffy long-haired menace and smoothed over her white fur, letting Sothis settle in her arms, which often served as her favorite hammock to nap in.

"I am truly sorry, but that will have to stay a secret between the two of us."

Flayn chirped, nonetheless offering a smile that channelled her usual youthful cheer, the epitome of perfect customer service. Byleth, on the other hand, was very distracted when she looked back up, having caught sight of the customer at the forefront.

It was unfair, almost, how handsome he was. It was as if just by talking about Flayn's penchant for reading ridiculous love stories, that someone with looks so fictitiously fine—that all romance writers themselves had merged all their brain cells to unanimously agree on such beauty—had waltzed right into the shop and brought the summer heat in with him. 

After all, surely she wasn’t the only one that thought it had gotten hotter in here. Brown hair tousled like lazy tendrils of the sun that begged to be run through, the dusky tones of his skin further highlighted by strong cheekbones and the shadows of well-kept facial hair lining his jaw. Broad shoulders fit against a sunshine yellow shirt that brought out the golden flecks in the most piercing green eyes she had ever seen.

Byleth was by no means a religious woman, but even she could believe in divine miracles, if the ache in her chest—like a phantom arrow through the heart—was any indication. 

"Is my face really that interesting?"

The allure of his lips, now curled in a teasing smile aimed directly in Byleth's direction, came simultaneously with the sharp feeling of Sothis gnawing at Byleth’s hand. Snapped out of her momentary reverie, now having noted the way Flayn and the purple-haired woman were looking at her curiously, Byleth wrestled her inner emotional disarray to offer nothing but a blank expression.

One small gift of the few she was given, was her ability to always maintain an emotionless disposition. Though often more detrimental than useful—given how many times people had mistaken her for being uninterested or condescending—it was helpful whenever she had been zoning out.

"It's part of the process advertised, if you choose the surprise special."

Byleth calmly stated, although she felt her face grow hot at the fact that she had been caught staring, so she turned her attention to his female companion instead. She was normally more subtle than that, when observing customers. And yet, she hadn't been able to tear her gaze away from him, whose eyes she could feel were still on her. 

That thought alone caused goosebumps to prickle along Byleth's skin, so she instead silently tilted her head towards the sign on the counter, in attempt to have that green gaze be drawn away from her. As well as ignoring the way part of her mind imagined her fingers running through the stranger’s hair while she was stroking Sothis' fur. 

The disgruntled look Sothis sent her made her wonder if her cat knew exactly what she was thinking.

“If this is your first time at such an establishment, sir, then the surprise special is what we usually recommend. We are very confident in being able to create something that will be to your liking."

Flayn suggested, offering a secretive smile to Byleth. After all, usually Byleth was the one that handled special orders, after a quick survey of the people who had requested them. So Byleth took care to study the other girl, whose hair had been done in elaborate braids. She also noted the vibrant jewelry of well-threaded layers of colorful beads around her neck, as well as the turquoise feathers that dangled from her ears. 

(Because she was definitely not simultaneously admiring the strength in the man's arms as he folded them behind his head from the corner of her eye.)

"Now, while I'm normally not the biggest fan of surprises, I admittedly have absolutely no experience with this sort of thing—a friend recommended I try this place out, so I'm just following her advice to try the surprise first. Anything you'd want, Petra?"

"Oh, I would be liking a surprise greatly. I am fulling with excitement—or full of, I should be saying, yes, Claude?"

The revelation of his name seemed to fit in her mind like a lost key found to fit a curious lock, that would lead to a mystery worth unravelling. At least, for someone with a bit more daring than she. The most daring she had at the moment was to sneak a proper glance back in Claude's direction, who had flashed a smile at Petra that was full of radiant charm.

"Well, sure, if we're going with grammatical convention. But I would like to think we're both the sort to find Fodlani to be its own sort of linguistic beast, so feel free to use the language however you please when you're with me."

Claude then winked at Petra, who let out a soft giggle in response. And despite herself, Byleth felt her heart twist a little in disappointment.

Sure, the two could have just been friends. But charisma dripped from the man like molten lava, ready to burn the hearts of those who his attentions were directed towards. She was but a stranger, and could already feel its full force effectively, given the state of her insides. So really, it would not do to linger any longer on the increasingly slim chances that he was single.

As well as the concerning rise in questions she had about him, swooning like a lovestruck lady in one of Flayn's books. It wasn't as if she was ever going to see him again, so there was no practicality in attempts to start conversation.

Furthermore, Byleth was terrible at small talk. 

So Byleth bumped her hip gently against Flayn's, a quiet sign shared between the two that one would make to tell the other they were to depart. Flayn proceeded to smile at both owner and cat—who yawned calmly in comparison to the internal chaos suffered by her holder—before proceeding to press their orders into their electronic cashier, chattering on about the various desserts they had on display.

Byleth then slipped into the backroom, pushing behind the cerulean curtain to kneel to the ground, as to let Sothis jump out of her arms before she got to work. 

The drinks mixing space was minimalistic enough in color scheme, in its monochrome contrast to the seating area beyond the curtain, with a simple screen hanging from the right side to symbolize the orders taken from the electronic cashier outside. Upon looking up, she noticed the two entries described in the digital boxes—two surprise specials alongside a slice of angel food cake, with no allergies from either person—and proceeded to grab two tall plastic cups. 

The Captain's Cups' specials were usually made by her, given that she made drinks off of her first impressions of those who ordered. If customers came back, requesting the same thing, she would usually include the name of the tea combination, as to allow them an easier time recollecting their preference. Mixing drinks, however, was a favorite part of the job, especially upon seeing first-time reactions.

Petra, she decided, she would work on first. The girl had been smiling the entire time she had stood with Claude, and her demeanor had been nothing but sweet. Her way of speaking, while elegant in tone with her foreign lilt, had been a jumble of words, like someone testing puzzle pieces and how they fit together on a larger scale. Therefore, the ideal recipe would be something refreshingly tropical, with a kick of spice to balance the sweetness of the syrup she would add.

So Byleth proceeded to open the fridge and take some small slices of pineapple and a container of coconut milk out and set it aside on the sole empty countertop. There was something soothing to the practiced way her hands then took over, adding tablespoons of ginger and three quarters of water to the pre-made black tea in a small saucepan, before putting it on top one of the burners of the tiny stove in the corner. 

She had the tea cool before straining it into the blender, adding four ice cubes, her slices of pineapple, and the appropriate amount of coconut milk in before proceeding to put the lid on, hearing the sharp whirling of the machine’s blades blending the ingredients. And she had always found it satisfying to pour the tea into the cup as the final step—having already scooped the pearls and added half sweetness of syrup to the drink prior—before putting it into the automatic plastic sealer machine. 

Now she focused her attention on her mental notes on Claude and tried to not let herself get swept away by his unfairly handsome looks in her head. Especially with that winning smile of his, bright like a new dawn—

But that smile had not reached his eyes, she realized, and decided to use that as her starting point. He reminded her of a dark stroke of cynicism against an otherwise perfectly painted portrait of colorful charisma, with a slight hardness in his posture that juxtaposed the generous ease of his verbal wit. She was almost possessed in the way her hands rushed to find the tin she had in mind amongst all the others in the cupboard, mind already formulating the perfect recipe. Something bitter with fresh undertones with no sweetness in the syrup, but instead added by the black sugar pearls—which were sweeter than the regular in Petra’s drink—she'd add in the cup instead. The texture and taste of the tapioca would be a pleasant surprise, she decided. Especially given that was what he had been to her. 

Preparing his order was far more straightforward than Petra’s, given that she needed to make only sort of tea, but it was. When she had scooped the pearls into his cup and poured in the tea (after having shaken the tea with a couple ice cubes in a cocktail shaker), she swapped out the cups and had Claude's take its turn being sealed with plastic. Taking one in each hand, fingers wrapped around the very top, she flipped them upside down to check the security of the plastic sealing, as per protocol. 

"Greetings, Byleth! Anything to report?"

She turned to see Eddie stick his head out from the small entryway that led to the other rooms behind the drink mixing station where she stood, his usual grey baseball cap hiding the upper half of his face. His bowtie of the day, however, was sky blue and dotted with grinning suns, half of which had winking expressions upon further examination. 

"Business is calmer, so if you serve these two, I can do clean up duty."

"Oh sure! You can always count on me. By the by."

Eddie beams at her, waving a baking glove at her in an almost conspiratorial manner. 

"I'm almost done with this batch of cookies. You and Flayn are more than welcome to them, just save a few for Cyril when he returns."

She was not one for smiling, but happiness was always contagious around the cafe's self-nominated gatekeeper; his love for greeting customers during his breaks added greatly to the homely atmosphere Flayn wanted the shop to uphold, so it was hard to prevent her lips from turning upwards, ever so slightly.

"Thank you, Eddie."

"Of course! That's what friends do. Also, I think Sothis has found a very comfortable new sleeping spot."

Eddie chuckles, pointing his baking glove at the cup as the two of them watch Sothis leap into an open cupboard from the top of the fridge, proceeding to turn herself in circles. With a deep internal sigh, Byleth proceeded to boop the cat's nose.

"Get down from there, you little gremlin."

Sothis opened one eye to glare at Byleth, who rolled her own eyes in reply. Challenging her cat's will was a unique battlefield in it of itself, no matter the location, especially if her cat was in the mood for napping.

"If you behave, I'll buy you a tuna tart. Otherwise you'll get the braids. Now, get down, please."

Sothis got up, although Byleth could read the annoyance in those leaf green feline eyes, proceeding to pounce down to the floor and waltz out of the mixing room with humanlike grace.

Byleth sometimes wondered if Sothis had been a ruler of sorts in her past life, because the feline would always demand, in her own haughtily quiet way, some form of respect. She was intelligent enough to recognize words of manner—please, thank you, and others that associated with formal requests—and gave her looks when Byleth's language displeased her.

Then again, Sothis was also capable of accidentally eating butterflies in springtime, tripping over herself during enthusiastic chases of laser dots, and falling into peculiarly tight spots for napping sprees. So Byleth was content to believe that her cat was now, at least, just a cat.

Even if her cat had the miraculous ability to find her whenever she pleased. At least she was never afraid of being lost; Sothis would inevitably find her and probably demand treats in compensation. 

She turned to the tiny drink label printer, proceeding to press two stickers she peeled off to their respective cups, before reaching for one of the markers kept in the small cup, prepared to scribble some compliments. It had been Eddie's suggestion, as a way of spreading smiles, and Flayn had fallen in love with the idea. So they had each taken to adding small words of kindness to every drink order, as a way to brighten someone's day up.

_You have great taste in jewelry._

She wrote on Petra's, after tapping the back of the marker on her chin.

As for Claude's…

Her mind ran with a million suggestions, and she ignored how most of them made her chest tight. Eventually, she chose the most harmless one from the mental lottery to scribble down. Even if she had immediately felt embarrassed writing it down afterwards, almost slamming the drink back onto the counter and throwing the marker where she had found it initially. Eddie would be able to take both drinks and pick up the cake slice to serve.

Byleth then took a cloth and a tray from the cleaning cupboard before exiting the drinks room, noting that most other customers had already left, leaving Petra and Claude to sit directly across the cashier counter in comfortable wicker chairs lined with cushions. There was a pink dolphin soft toy in Petra's arms, which she was currently cuddling on her lap. Sunlight had caught in Claude's hair, giving him almost an ethereal halo from where she stood, and it was an embarrassingly difficult task to force her feet to move from her spot where she had been caught off guard, yet again, by this illegally attractive man.

So she looked down and began wiping the counter, overhearing slivers of conversation as Flayn—who was utterly engrossed in her ridiculous fishy romance and had not noticed her return—scrolled through her phone.

"—and you're sure that she didn't say anything about Dimitri at all?"

"That is what Dorothea has said. It is like he no longer exists. It is sad, to me, that she can have no fond feelings when speaking of family so easily."

"Well, thank you for letting me know regardless, Petra. Even if Dedue left earlier, the three of us should hang out again, under better circumstances. I really did enjoy learning more about customs from Brigid and Duscar from you both."

"I would be delighting in that greatly, Claude!"

Upon hearing Eddie's footsteps behind her, Byleth proceeded to slide open the glass dessert display door, allowing him easier access. A smile of thanks aimed her way, she watched as he sauntered over to the two, her mind ignoring the raised curiosity that was lingering in what she had overheard exchanged between the two.

"Your drinks, sir and milady."

Eddie presented the two drinks with a flourish of his hand, spinning the tray between his fingers in a rare case of showmanship, after he had also placed down the cake plate. Byleth knew her face had softened slightly at the sight—given that Eddie could make anyone lighten up with his presence alone—but was satisfied upon seeing Petra take the cake plate for herself. 

She had guessed accurately on their tastes then. After both had thanked Eddie, Claude had continued to talk, while Petra picked up her fork to try her cake. Eddie had then walked over to Byleth, handing her his tray as he shot a finger gun at her, before heading back to the mixing room behind the counter. 

"Once we handle their Highnesses, everything should fall into place. It would be a bit too convenient if the answer to my problems just fell right into my lap, wouldn't it?"

Petra nodded in reply, having already tucked into her dessert, eyes brightening after her first bite. Claude chuckled in reply, before picking up his cup and taking a sip from his straw. Byleth had paused momentarily from her gathering of dinnerware to watch him drink, seeing his nonchalance break into surprise—delight, she would hope, in the way the corners of his mouth tilted upward—as he he took the straw between his fingers and stirred the tapioca pearls around.

"Huh. Almyran Pine. I wonder what are these chewy bits at the bottom?"

Petra was soon to follow when she picked up her own drink, a joyful gasp half muffled by her closed mouth as she took another hearty slurp, eyes scanning over the label Byleth had stuck onto her drink. 

"I am very much enjoying this choice. And the sweetly writing on the sticker. It is very kind."

Byleth felt herself relax, surprised at the previously unnoticed tension between her shoulders. Petra looked utterly elated with her choices as she dug for another piece of cake, while Claude looked delightfully intrigued as he studied his own label, so she would consider those two another job well done.

That peace lasted until she realized Claude was trying to get her attention.

He was looking at her with a half smile, raising his plastic cup like a champagne glass, a single eyebrow cocked in silent question, as he tapped the label against the drink before pointing his finger at her. Byleth pretended that she hadn't seen him, distrusting the way she'd respond to his unspoken question, given how his face currently wore an endearingly mischievous expression that would absolutely not have any further impact on her warming face. 

She instead focused on stacking plates onto her own trays, neatly tucking the forks together on the top plate. Once she had gathered everything, she began walking back to the counter.

It was a bit of a blur, what happened next. She remembered the door opening, with the sight of boxes piled on high, leaving only a familiar set of legs in sight. She remembered her attempt to let him pass, with a careful sidestep.

But Cyril didn't have the luxury of sight before his eyes with the boxes. And she didn't have the luxury of space to dodge again when he suddenly slammed into her, shoving her in a random direction, only to have her trip backwards again.

" _Sothis!_ "

She heard Cyril exclaim then, after the crash of boxes, as the fluffy white haired creator of this mess began sniffing all the scattered supplies on the ground. Byleth herself felt unharmed, having fell into one of the nearby chairs, but it was certainly a lot warmer than what she remembered—

There was a small giggle from Petra, so Byleth tilted her head to survey her surroundings, wondering what was the source of her amusement. And then it hit her, at the sight of familiarly gorgeous green eyes, staring at her face so closely.

She was sitting on _Claude's_ lap. 

Her arms were uplifted awkwardly—one over his shoulders, the other bent before her chest so that it hit his—to balance the trays that still had somehow miraculously managed to keep her everything from falling onto the floor. One of his hands rested on her lower back, as if he had intended to catch her.

That realization alone that made her feel like the flow of time had stopped with the sharpness of snapped fingers, as if willed by an unseen being of remarkable power. But now, with her emotions essentially crashing into each other in her chest like bumper cars driven by adrenaline junkies, she had to force her next few words out.

"I am so sorry."

Byleth apologized, just as Eddie—who had appeared out of nowhere like a summer whirlwind—took her trays from her, while Flayn—who had shot up from her seat behind the counter like her life depended on it—had rushed from behind the counter to help Cyril recheck his scattered supplies, holding them away from a very curious Sothis.

It must have been a trick of the light, Byleth thinks, that made Claude's cheeks look pink in the afternoon sun. Even if he offered her a gentler smile—that made her realize that all his smiles before were practised, pretty things, and caused her mind to freeze the proximity—and proceeded to wave it off.

"Oh, uh, don't worry about it. If anything, it'll definitely be a story to tell, at least."

Byleth nodded mechanically, feeling tongue-tied and thick with embarrassment, before picking herself off his lap to gather Sothis into her arms, ignoring the mewls of protest and hissing that followed. 

"You're absolutely getting the braids now. No tuna tarts for you, gremlin."

When Sothis stuck out her tongue at Byleth, she instinctively stuck her tongue back. Then she realized that she was still in sight of both customers. So she then stoically walked back to the mixing room, where her soul could scream in peace and her face could burn in private. 

But upon catching the scent of chocolate in the air, she continued onward, past the small entryway and turned right, entering the small kitchen area where Eddie did all his baking. She put Sothis down on the ground, before grabbing one cookie and shoving it into her mouth, trying to focus her attention on only the rich chocolate chips instead.

Eddie followed in shortly after, putting the trays and dishes into the sink. Guilt broke through the grip embarrassment held onto her, but before she could say something, Eddie tilted his head at her.

"Greetings, Byleth. Are you okay?"

She nodded in reply, arranging words in her head before forcing them out.

"Thank you for taking over the trays. Sorry about the inconvenience."

"Don't worry, By, I've always got your back! Although I must say, so did that handsome fellow back there."

Byleth snatched another cookie and took a big bite, before shaking its half-eaten form at Eddie, who grinned widely at her. There was no way she was going to entertain any ideas about hypothetical romances with customers. Cyril was already on the receiving end of Flayn and Eddie's combined enthusiasm due to his crush—to which he accidentally let slip in mentioning the softness of her smile—on the girl who helped him with his readings sometimes during the week.

"Claude is not Lysithea. Nothing will come out of it."

She then proceeded to press a finger to her fellow colleague's mouth, even if she saw the way his eyes were alight with mirth.

"Also, we've run out of that sweet tea blend she likes so much."

Eddie took out his phone to type a quick reminder, before offering a quick salute.

"For the sake of our dear Cyril, I will further embark on a quest to gather ingredients, as to spread joy to his youth heart! Uh, after my shift outside is done, of course. No slacking off whatsoever."

And despite the exhaustion that came from experiencing, Byleth felt herself smile. Flayn and Cyril came in shortly after, and she took a couple of the boxes from the latter to put down on the ground, as to make the weight easier on him.

"I really am very sorry, Cyril."

"Nah, don't worry about it. I know ya didn't intend to trip me."

The younger boy said, shifting his hold on the current box—which had survived its crash to the ground outside, although with a few scars—as to better his grip.

"Though it would be nice to get one from Sothis. Even if it would appear very unlikely."

Cyril then blinked, when Sothis batted her head against his leg. He looked down, and immediately looked ahead, deliberately avoiding eye contact with the cat as he took a couple steps back.

"Aw, not the eyes again."

Flayn laughed as Sothis continued to trail Cyril, her own eyes wide open in maximum cuteness, fur puffed out to appear extra soft. Eddie placed a hand over his heart, as if moved by the sight, while Flayn cooed, snapping photos with her phone and giggling all the while.

Byleth once remembered reading a story, where a great war took place in Fodlan's past. Where an emperor craved change the same way a fallen king craved blood, and how they clashed on a verdant field that was soon made crimson under azure skies, all while a sovereign duke gathered the remnant strings of his alliance of lords, in attempt to maintain a facade of peace. Each had divine weapons that dealt great blows to their enemies, as they continued to fight the war, in attempts to seek allies that could help them turn the tides in their favor.

But they had never met Sothis Fishbait Sleeps-A-Lot Eisner, the fluffiest troublemaking gremlin in all of Fódlan, or her disarmingly adorable gaze. Wars of will could be won with one of those looks, and Byleth would not hesitate to admit to occasionally losing to her cat with a warrior's senses to gracefully retreat. 

Sothis probably would have won the war in her story. But she was currently pouncing on Cyril's shoes, intent on winning this particular battle with the boy who pointedly avoided the feline's antics.

"It won't work on me this time, Sothis!"

Cyril called out in a slight panic, speed-walking to the storage room with the cat chasing after him, meowing persistently for his attention. And while both Flayn and Eddie were in fits of laughter, Byleth only let out an amused sigh, shaking her head.

Even if she sometimes found emotions to be tiring, she found comfort in moments such as these, where happiness was laced in the air just like the scent of freshly baked cookies.

***

Claude had waited for her to come back out.

But she hadn't. 

Both the petite girl with the bouncing curls and the beaming man with the bow-tie both had to check in on both him and Petra, apologizing yet again for the previous mishap. But as he and Petra continued to chat about the contrasts and similarities in the cultures they had grown up in—with Claude happily listening to the various occasions Brigidans had "events of feastings", as Petra had put it—his gaze would always drift back to the curtain behind the cashier counter.

It was when the two of them left the Captain's Cups, hearing a cheery goodbye from the girl with the curls, that Claude decided to ask.

"Do you think that she got into trouble?"

Petra blinked at him, bemused, as he proceeded to rub his hand on the back of his neck, feeling uncharacteristically sheepish.

"The woman who was on my lap earlier."

Claude clarified, seeing Petra's eyes brighten in recognition.

"Ah! I understand. The one who left you blushing?"

He tactfully avoided the question with a smile, proceeding to playfully tap Petra on the shoulder. Extremely few people knew his social cues, and if Hilda had been here with him today instead, he might as well book a plane ticket and move to Morfis to become a hipster hooligan with a travelling puppeteer business named Clause Inhidin, given how relentless her interrogation and teasing would have been.

"You could say that. How'd you think she figured out what we would like? It couldn't have been anyone else who made the drinks, and she's never even met us before."

"Well, visiting this shop again could be another chance for you to have the asking. I would like be coming back as well."

Claude liked to consider himself an intelligent man, even if Lorenz always ribbed him on for his "tomfoolery befitting that only of a pantomiming skunk in worth of ridicule." In his—and the imaginary skunk's, whose honor he had done his best to uphold in an outrageous debate that made Lorenz chip his favorite china cup and turn redder than Leonie's hair—defense, common sense often alluded him, especially when his mind was whirling with schemes at the speed of a hyperactive hamster running on its wheel.

In other words, he hadn't considered the easy solution of just coming back to the cafe again. He'd facepalm if he had been by himself. Dimitri and Edelgard really were robbing him of his last few brain cells with their ridiculous step-sibling spat, that somehow resulted in him being their mediator.

"Thanks for the help today, by the way. If I can help with your part of the convention, do let me know."

"It is no troubling. I will try to speak to Edelgard again for you. I am hoping she will...what is the word? Coming around, yes?"

"Yeah, that's close enough. On the topic of grammar though, what's your biggest problem with the language of Fódlan?"

Claude raised a playful eyebrow, resting his arms behind his head as Petra then jumped into a ramble about the difficulties of Fódlani grammar and the inflexibility of its translations from her native tongue. And though he gave his proper cues—a joke or two of shared solidarity, a confirming nod whenever he heard a mirrored struggle—his mind had gone back to wondering about the woman from the Captain's Cups.

It was endearing, almost, the way she had swept the cat up and shifted from her unreadable expression, into that of something more playful. Even if it was gone in the blink of an eye, it was the most expressive he had seen her the entire time.

And someone with that much of a sharp eye to instantly pick up on his favorite tea? Well, Claude couldn't just forget about them that easily, especially since she had gathered his full attention. He then looked again, at his own plastic cup in hand, re-reading the words on the sticker on his cup.

_You have striking eyes._ He always did enjoy a good mystery. Especially if it was as pretty as the probably psychic owner of one chaos-causing cat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy there!  
> Firstly, thank you for clicking on this fic and giving it a chance! I appreciate you :)  
> This is a little project I'm doing while working on my main Claudeleth project, so I do hope you enjoy the ride XD
> 
> ***
> 
> Up next:  
> Claude, our favorite hider of secrets, accidentally exposes himself despite his best efforts.


	2. Oh, To Be A Charming Plotter Unknowingly Falling For A Potential Psychic (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyril and Flayn tag team confront Byleth.  
> Claude both bargains and embarrasses himself in front of Byleth.  
> Sothis misbehaves, as per usual.

The problem with Sothis lay not in her mischief, but rather, the extent in which her cuteness became her strongest influence in having punishment slide off her, like condensation over smooth glass. 

Even after the whole fiasco of scattered stock yesterday, Byleth knew Cyril had forgiven Sothis when he let her sit on his lap as he had lunch later the same day, purring contentedly whenever the younger boy would scratch her under the chin. 

Sothis also had the same sort of power over the rest of the staff. 

With Flayn? Sothis would lounge about suntanning in the best spots around the café, letting Flayn take photos of her to reuse on the shop's website. When Byleth tried to take photos of her, however, Sothis always wiggled around the apartment whenever she tried to send a photo to her parents, resulting in nothing but a blurry cloud of fluff every time.

With Eddie? Well, while Eddie and angry were two antonyms that were never in the same room, but on the days where he had a little less cheer, Sothis would always trail after him, meowing for attention, and brought him packages of snacks she had stolen from Byleth's cupboards to hide with her whenever she jumped into Byleth's backpack.

This revelation had actually resulted in the purchase of the new baby carrier Eddie had given her moons ago.

"Cats aren't very comfortable in backpacks! Besides, I'm sure Sothis would enjoy being able to see the world with you. She's quite the intelligent miss, after all."

He had insisted, with his usual smile, refusing any sort of return payment beyond the promise that Byleth would use it. And she did, being personally amused at the Sothis' annoyance whenever she had been stuck in the carrier for an extended period of time. Sometimes it would bring about what Flayn fondly named 'The Bait On A Hook Wiggle', to which she would wiggle furiously to make her escape. But Byleth had grown used to mostly ignoring her then, especially when Sothis would miraculously fall asleep after five minutes of intense struggling and face swatting.

Thus, a monitoring plan had been formed.

If she behaved, Sothis would be allowed to roam the café during opening hours, earning pets from customers who fell victim to her wide eyes and fluffy fur, which she would always puff out before she toured her domain like the tiny tyrant she was. If she performed any acts of feline delinquency, Byleth would proceed to hide all her cat snacks somewhere and make her wear 'the braids', which often resulted in the gremlin sulking in her napping box—another gift from Eddie—for the rest of the day, if Byleth wasn't carrying her around in the carrier to prevent her from causing more trouble.

So, through trial, error, and the occasional impulsive idea, Byleth had perfected a plan to rein her in whenever her cat's behaviour stepped out of line. However, Sothis' place as reigning champion for being Byleth's biggest distraction at work had recently been stolen by another individual with equally distracting green eyes.

It wasn't until the fifth day said individual frequented the shop in a row, that Cyril stood next to her by the mixing station counter, arms crossed, to ask the very question she'd been hoping would remain under the radar, despite Flayn's increasingly repeated attempts to tease her.

Then again, Cyril was sharper than what most people gave him credit for, at first glance. It was how he had won himself the Rhea Bishops' scholarship to start attending university in the first place, with the fund's namesake as his patron.

"Why are ya avoiding him?"

"...Who?"

Byleth pretended to not see Cyril raise an eyebrow at her, as she continued to peel off labels from the sticker printer. Sothis, currently, had no complaints about being in the baby carrier Byleth was wearing, given that she was delighting in hitting every order label Byleth stuck on drinks afterwards like some variation of whack-a-mole, using her paw as her hammer. It was almost a competition of sorts, given that her owner had to occasionally adjust the position of drinks, before she swiped them off the counter and spilled the drinks' contents.

"I dunno know his name. I've only seen him around. He's outside chatting Flayn up right now though."

She would not give any sort of sign that she had recognized said individual's voice, or the nerves that had sprung about hearing his lingering presence outside, dulled only by Flayn's muffled cheer. 

"You mean Claude?"

Cyril studied her face for a moment, and she silently prayed that she had maintained her usual monotone when saying his name. It wasn't until he let out a sigh, shook his head, and then chuckled, that she felt her insides relax slightly.

He suspected nothing.

Hopefully, nobody else would either.

Although, to be fair, she didn't know what others could possibly suspect, when she didn't know the cause for her own nerves herself.

"I guess so? I've never seen ya avoid someone before. You're not afraid of anybody."

Byleth shook her head in response, reaching out for the drink she had made for Cyril. She knew his habits to overwork himself—when he wasn’t working, he was studying, and when he wasn’t doing either, he was cleaning, fighting exhaustion to complete his ever-continuous cycle of productivity that resulted in his distaste for wasted time—so she would always prepare something for him beforehand as a refreshment. 

After meeting Claude, however, she realized they both had a fondness for the same tea. Cyril’s gaze softened slightly at the offering, and he gave his thanks, but as soon as he took a few sips from his drink—Almyran Pine with scoops of the peach coconut jelly Byleth knew her younger colleague was secretly fond of—his skepticism returned, so she booped Sothis' nose as a mild distraction.

"That isn't true. Sometimes Sothis will suffocate me in my sleep. I fear her tummy of death.”

Sothis looked up at Byleth in response with narrowed eyes, pausing from her battle of the cups. Flynn used that opportunity to enter, pulling the curtain back behind her to smile brightly at Byleth, repeating the same song and dance that the older girl had tactfully avoided by hiding in the kitchen with Eddie, who was currently baking in the back.

"Byleth, would you please go greet the gentleman with the striking eyes?"

She stage-whispered, hand cupped over her mouth. Byleth looked towards the kitchen entryway, and Cyril immediately moved to stand in front of it, blocking her only exit option. Still, Byleth would not relent. 

"I'm a bit busy over here Flayn."

A weak excuse, she knew, especially with Flayn’s huff of annoyance in reply. Her cousin was a sweet girl, but the way she shifted from gentle to irritated was usually easier to invoke from those whom she considered family.

"Byleth, I could readily provide compliments to customers in your stead. Moreover, it would be so terribly rude to keep him waiting. He has asked after your wellbeing every day since the two of you first met!"

For once, Sothis proved helpful, in her own chaotic way. One hard smacking following the sudden lunge forward broke everyone's attention away from the topic at hand, as Byleth and Flayn caught the drinks that had dangerously tethered on the edge of the counter because of Sothis' mischief.

Flayn, however, after putting the cups back, only seemed more determined to drag Byleth. Cyril, nonetheless, had questions, his brow furrowed when recalling her previous words.

"Just what 'bout her does he find so interesting?”

“Well, perhaps Claude finds her very fair, and wishes to be properly acquainted.”

Cyril spluttered a reply at Flayn’s dreamy tone, as Byleth felt herself internally sigh at the remark. Her insides were absolutely not full of warm flutters at the prospect of a stranger, who she had found unfairly gorgeous, being interested in her in any way. But she was running out of excuses to avoid the situation at hand.

“Fine.”

Her monosyllabic defeat, quiet like a warrior’s dying breath from a battle they would have never survived, was all that was needed to show Byleth felt as she headed towards the curtain. She could feel Flayn’s frown melt back into her usual smile, while Cyril only frowned, as if contemplating Flayn’s previous words further. 

"Thank you, dearest cousin! I knew you would appreciate the kindness of a customer. Oh, but before I forget!"

Flayn pulls out her phone, the screen alight to let Byleth see her cousin's favorite meme of a fish eating a cat as her lockscreen, before looking away to let her type in her password. It didn't take long for Flayn to almost smack her in the face with the device in her excitement, as Byleth gently lowered Flayn's hand to a level where she could probably read what appeared to be a list of names.

"I deeply apologize for this future challenge, but perhaps you could convince my father to let us pursue some boutiques? I would like to make a few new purchases for my wardrobe—oh, or perhaps find matching outfits as a way to create an appropriate dress code for the shop!”

Byleth paused to think about that request. It wouldn’t have been the most outrageous idea Flayn had ever had, but the challenge mostly lay in the varying taste in style between the two of them. Flayn had always liked girlish fashions; her choices often resulting in the purchase of many pastel dresses with round flowing skirts, adorned with fish or seashell patterns in varying shapes and sizes, that made her look like a girl from eras past. 

Byleth, on the other hand, only bought monochromatic clothes that shared three things in common: being baggy or loose, being ten dollars max per item, and being able to absorb sweat stains at a remarkable speed. The final criterion was especially important, given the tiring nature of Sothis' mischief, or the occasional fighting she'd get into with Jeritza whenever one of them was bored and looking to spar.

But she’d entertain Flayn nonetheless. 

After all, her uncle Seteth was usually pretty lenient on credit card expenses if Byleth went with her, so if she also just so happened to pick up some pricey beers for her dad and vintage bookmarks for her mom on the way, well…

"Sure. We can work out a time."

“That would be wonderful. Oh, but I have kept you here far too long. Go! Your handsome suitor awaits.”

“Hey Flayn, ya really shouldn’t be messing with Byleth—”

She blocked out the potential bickering between Flayn and Cyril that she felt coming on, choosing to take a deep breath, forcing her nerves to fall back into the steel grip of her psyche. Just like how one would slide on a mask, Byleth felt herself recompose her ‘resting dead face’ expression.

She pulled back the curtain, ready for battle, only to see Claude straighten up at the sight of her, flashing her a smile that was disarming in its charm.

"Ah, just the woman I wanted—"

He paused, now staring at Sothis, who looked at him utterly unimpressed from underneath her wig, sitting against Byleth’s chest in the baby carrier. The infamous ‘braids’ of punishment, as her dad once noted, looked like seaweed and tree leaves sewn together by a drunkard who fancied themselves a sowingsmith with a needle. Plastic golden hearts, silver stars, and fake beads forming a headdress that hung above a fringe that hung slightly above Sothis’ green eyes. The wig had covered her normal ears, but compensated by adding two pointy ears on each side, which were accentuated by the twin braids braided with red and white ribbons that framed either side of Sothis’ face. The two blue tassels that came with the design had been cut off by Byleth, since she knew that was giving her cat too much fun.

The advertisement had said it was part of a pet costume designed after the alleged sketches of the ancient goddess of old Fodlan. Byleth remembered having taken one look at it on her screen, turned away to see Sothis aggressively shake her then new mouse toy between her teeth, and added the wig to her online shopping cart, feeling a tiny thrill overtake her at both the ridiculousness of the order, and the small history reference she would be able to make by having her cat wear it. 

She also considered it vengeance for the mouse, since she had found it days later, torn to shreds thanks to Sothis' ruthless biting, stuffing still falling out when it was promptly thrown in her face. At the time, she had been lying in bed watching a documentary on the final days of the ancient Leicester Alliance, studying up on their warfare of old when she was attacked in her very home in the modern day.

Sothis had looked pleased with herself, having pounced onto the bed in an attempt to demand attention. But when Byleth had lightly tossed the toy back at her cat, she had apparently startled her enough to cause Sothis to fall off the bed with a loud thump. As such, Sothis had refused to let Byleth stop petting her during the remaining hour of the documentary, wanting to be babied.

The Master Tactician—a prominent figure in her historical film—had also been named Claude. But the name—a Leicester favorite, if she recalled her lessons—had never meant much to her, until she heard the man standing before her laughing.

The sound was warm and smooth and satisfying, like hot syrup slowly poured over pancakes, and left her feeling fuzzy inside. That was when a small part of her knew then, that the name was ruined for her, because she would not be able to picture anyone else but the green eyed man with the golden laugh before her.

"I'm sorry, that's probably just the funniest thing I've seen all day. Where in Fódlan's name did you even get these?"

Claude reached out to toy with a green braid, only to retract his hand when Sothis clasped it with her paws, attempting to bite his finger. Byleth stepped back as to give more distance between cat and speaker—as well as some for herself, in all honesty, for better composure—before she replied. 

"Online. Flayn said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, actually. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you lately, so—"

Byleth felt her brain short-circuit then, given that most of Claude’s words seemed to be swept away by the tide of emotion that tightened her chest. It was unfair, almost, how readily he had landed a blow on her defenses, or how sincere his voice had sounded. Especially when his eyes—striking as ever, still, in their shade—remained guarded.

"—what Petra and I would have liked?"

She stayed silent at that, embarrassed by the fact she had zoned out. Claude raised an eyebrow in reply, his look that of amusement, gesturing between the two of them with a hand.

"I'm pretty sure we've never met before, because trust me, I would have remembered you if we ever crossed paths." 

He said, unfazed, as if Byleth was still currently capable of coherent thought. He even had the boldness to place a hand on the counter, leaning forward with a smile that was trouble in the way a crack was for a dam; a game of forces in which water dueled against its metal captor, begging to continue its flow via the sweet seductions of gravity, that promised nothing but damage should the crack grow too great to be repaired.

And Claude was definitely testing her.

"So how'd you do it?"

Byleth blinked, mind still blank, even as she felt the crack break just a little bit wider, prompting her to blurt out an answer.

"It's a secret."

A half truth of sorts. It was a gift, she supposed, to be observant enough to pick up on the cues of people to create their ideal drink combos. But a curse in the sense that it would just bring forth further embarrassment for herself if she openly admitted to having gawked at him that first day they met. 

Byleth Eisner was not an emotional person by nature, so to have such emotive surges in the presence of a complete stranger—no matter how good-looking—was new to her. And new was always something she was able to adjust in her favor for adaptation, after understanding its cause.

So she turned the tables on him instead.

"Why do you want to know?"

The sliver of genuine surprise that flashed across his face, was a small victory in her opinion, but it quickly blinked out as he shook a finger at her playfully. 

"Not so fast. That's a secret of my own. But I'll trade you one for the other, if you name your cost."

"How do I know you're not scheming to beat possible competition?"

"Well, you've certainly seen through some part of me. I'll admit, I am a schemer by nature. But consider this more so that of a man whose interest has been piqued, and is now in pursuit of something he wants."

She wasn't sure if it was legal, but it sure was tempting to imagine her taping duct tape across his mouth to stop him from uttering another word so well-welded with charisma, given how he had ended his last few with a wink that was borderline flirtatious. And that was dangerous territory.

"If you can guess my favorite tea, then I'll tell you how I figured out yours. But there are conditions. Three guesses. You're not allowed to ask any of the staff. You're not allowed to sneak in behind the counter to the area beyond. And you're not allowed to bribe Sothis with snacks of any kind.”

Sothis blinked repeatedly at Byleth, as if she had been personally attacked by the last comment. But Claude had only smiled lazily in reply, stretching his arms out behind his head, and Byleth could only imagine her fingers running along them.

"Ah, is that all? And here I thought I'd have to break in after hours just to get a hint."

"I trust that you won't."

He stared at her for a moment then, eyes scrutinizing her face, and she prayed that her face remained neutral enough to not show how self-conscious she was. And when he looked to the side in thought, she let herself sneak a peek at the rest of him, noticing the cute little golden deer emblem on his tight black shirt, and how it matched the shine of his trademark golden earring. But her eyes snapped back to his face when he gestured to Sothis, face showcasing nothing but amusement.

“Is there any reason why she’s in that getup today?”

He asked, just as her cat let out a meow Byleth recognized as her cry for attention. But the memory of her morning came back full-force, resulting in the short reply that came alongside the flicker of annoyance Byleth felt when recalling.

“She ate my breakfast.”

She had been saving that last tuna sandwich of hers for this very morning, having given in to her cravings of that specific brand, despite its high cost. But even though she had already been fed by Byleth earlier in the morning, the woman had walked out of her bedroom, dressed and ready to start the day, to the sight of Sothis stuffing her face shamelessly on the kitchen table.

Byleth had walked back into her bedroom to grab the braids, easily found after having made Sothis wear them once earlier in the week after the stock fiasco she created. But she was brought back to the present at the sound of Claude chuckling.

"She does seem like the sort to enjoy feasting. We have that in common. Do you mind if I pet her?"

Byleth shakes her head, stepping forward. Claude leaned towards her again, only this time, he offered his hand to Sothis first, who sniffed his fingers, looked insulted, but nonetheless let Claude scratch her underneath the chin. Byleth could feel some part of her softening, watching the two interact, but didn’t expect to feel startled when Claude looked up and made direct eye contact with her.

There was silence for a moment, when blue met green, but Byleth could feel goosebumps again when Claude's smile turned sly, voice ever lined with that damnably teasing lilt.

"I look forward to our little game."

Claude removed his hand from Sothis' chin—the feline looking annoyed with the sudden lack of scritches—and turned around and headed towards the door. And for the first time, Byleth understood why people enjoyed the view of watching others walk away from them. But even as he reached to pull at the handle of the door, he looked over his shoulder to wink at her one last time, before closing it behind him.

It was then that Flayn immediately yanked the curtain aside, abuzz with violent glee, arms already wrapping around the older girl’s waist as if she had won the prize of a lifetime.

"Byleth, he was trying to charm you! Just like in the stories! Oh, how wonderful, my heart is bursting with delight for you—"

Byleth mentally imagined herself pitching all her nerves away like a star pitcher throwing their ball out of the ballpark.

"We don't know him, Flayn. He's still a stranger."

Flayn looked up, expression full of protest, just as the door opened again. Both girls turned to see new customers ready to make their orders, so Flayn reluctantly let go of her and allowed her to make her retreat.

“Besides, I think I'm allergic to him."

Byleth muttered, walking back into the mixing room, searching for her own personal favorite package to make herself a drink. Cyril was nowhere to be found, so she assumed the boy had gone back to working, his mug already washed and dried and placed next to the others.

But even as she grabbed her mug, she was replaying how flustered she had felt during their entire interaction. Perhaps she couldn’t be around people she genuinely found attractive. Otherwise it would be bad for her health. Especially since her heart was currently suffering repercussions from it. 

So keeping her distance from Claude, in conclusion, would be the wisest course of action.

***

Time was said to heal all wounds, but Byleth was starting to think that was a lie, because she never seemed to fully recover from the sight of Claude smiling. Even if she stayed behind in the mixing room to make drinks, during the times she manned the counter with Flayn, he'd always try to talk to both of them, but she snuck away during Flayn's enthusiasm under the pretense of having to make his drink, and then sending Eddie or Cyril to bring it to him.

He had become a regular over the course of a few weeks, as although his timing was never limited to a particular hour of the day, his attendance was almost as consistent as everyone staffed at the café. He had, however, unofficially claimed a spot in the back of the seating area among the navy blue couches, his table usually cluttered with his laptop, papers, and the remnants of his daily order.

Normally, he’d just have his usual Almyran Pine boba combo, with the occasional bitter dessert—she had come to learn that he was particularly fond of their dark chocolate matcha cookie crisps—if he was staying in to work. However, upon seeing his name appear on the order screen for the fourth time, she first poured out a glass of lemon water to put on the tray set besides her.

When she finally stepped out from behind the mixing room with Claude’s drink, Eddie and Flayn were standing at the counter. Sothis was napping beside Flayn’s tablet, which showed the Captain Cups' official website. Eddie turned around with a smile at the sound of her footsteps, today’s bowtie being white and patterned with tiny green fish—a gift from Flayn—as he reached out a hand.

“Greetings, Byleth! Did you want me to bring that over to Claude?”

“No, I’ll do it.”

After all, she could just leave the tray on his table and go straight back to the mixing room. Sneaking a glance at the man in question, he was currently on the phone talking to someone, so his attention would be preoccupied. But she could tell Eddie was surprised, given the momentary falter in his smile, before it became ten times more radiant, and he offered her a thumbs up.

“Go on right ahead then! You know you’ll always have my full support.”

“Oh my, is Byleth about to go speak with Claude out of her own volition?"

Flayn looked up, visibly excited, as Eddie nodded and Byleth resisted the urge to roll her eyes at them both. Clearly they had both been sitting out here to wait for Lysithea's arrival, if the tray and plates were any indication, and so they were turning their attention towards her.

But there would be nothing worth watching. It was a simple task, to drop off the drinks. Claude offered a smile when he saw her walking over, even if he was still speaking into his phone in another language, and she nodded in reply. As she put his orders down, however, unintentionally listening to the way his voice seemed almost hypnotically softer in this other dialect, she was startled out of her daze when Claude suddenly grabbed her wrist. 

The contact was like rogue lightning across a power line, the touch shooting straight up her nerves, and Byleth resisted the urge to judo flip him right there. She could only stare numbly at his fingers as Claude said a good bye of sorts to the person on the other end, before looking up at her with a smirk.

It would be a sight to behold, she knows, when she finally saw the day when the warmth of his smile finally reach his eyes. For both his gaze and grins were already charmingly disarming in social interaction, due to their striking nature. 

But a part of her craved his honesty. She had only seen a facade so far, on his face, wonderful as it was, but believed his truths would serve to only make him fairer still.

Then again, she hardly knew him. And these were the thoughts of irrational attraction.

"Mind if I borrow some of your time?"

Byleth nodded at his question, broken out of her musings, as Claude let go of her to gesture to the couch opposite of him. Sliding into the seat with her tray on her lap, she ignored the sliver of disappointment she felt at how easily he let go, and instead looked at Claude tucking his phone away to intwine his fingers together before his face, elbows resting on the table, expression nothing short of impish.

"I've been wanting to speak to you more, given that I suspect you're actually quite good company to keep, despite being someone that's kinda hard to get a hold on. Flayn and Eddie both vouch for you whenever conversation comes 'round to discussing you, so, call me curious."

Byleth didn't even want to begin imagining what her cousin had been telling Claude. Eddie was Eddie, and always had a kind word to say about everyone, given how he took the time to get to know them. Flayn, however, often spilled into rambles that spun out of hand like a spinning top from her original intended topics, resulting in the occasional oversharing in stories that made embarrassing an understatement. 

"Besides, how else am I going to win our game if I don't try to engage you in conversation?"

Claude added mischievously, but Byleth's attention was shifted at the sound of the door opening. He turned around to follow her gaze, seeing a white-haired girl walk in with arms full of books. Eddie’s voice cheerfully calling out from his place behind the counter with Flayn, as the latter presented the girl with a pre-prepared tray of various cake slices. 

There was a look of recognition on his face, Byleth noted, when seeing him watch as Flayn went behind the curtain, as Eddie made conversation with Lysithea. When Claude looked back at her, face full of curiosity, she decided to answer his silent question with a reply she could actually give, rather than answer his previous question.

“Lysithea often stops by to help Cyril better grasp Fódlani vocabulary since he applied for tutoring assistance."

Cyril came out shortly after, with Flayn skipping behind him. She and Eddie exchanged grins the exact moment Byleth could see Sothis roll over on her side to sleep facedown on the counter, a couple of her legs draped on the side, unbothered by the whims and fancies of mortals in her dreamland, where she terrorized other creatures in her sleep.

"Aww, how cute. Fun fact, she's the one who told me about this place. Seemed right up her tastes with the entire atmosphere. Didn't realize she was also having her secret dates here too, the little minx."

Byleth resisted the urge to snort, especially when Claude wiggled his eyebrows at her in a playful manner, waggling his fingers in Lysithea and Cyril's direction, as if he meant to cast a spell on them both. 

"Cyril's a good guy."

Claude eyed the way Cyril smiled at Lysithea, leaning in to tease her about something that caused her to immediately blush and swat at his shoulder. Byleth saw Flayn rest her face in her hands, elbows on the counter as she giddily watched Cyril lead Lysithea to her favorite section of the café, away from where she was currently sitting with Claude. Eddie, on the other hand, was petting a still-snoozing Sothis, looking as happy as ever as he shot a finger gun at Cyril, who only rolled his eyes at them both.

"Oh, I don't doubt it."

Maybe it was her exposure to the way Flayn and Eddie had tried, in varying degrees, to convince Cyril to actually ask Lysithea out properly, but Byleth felt the same plotting undertone in Claude's voice in the way he stared so intently at them. So, in a moment of daring, she took the wrapped straw she placed on the table, to tap Claude's hands, breaking them apart with a downward slice, turning the straw into a sword.

"Don't go disturbing them."

She warned, to which Claude snatched his straw back from her—their fingers brushing, the tips of hers sparking with warmth—to twirl it between his fingers.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Bailey."

There was silence for a moment. Then another. And half a heartbeat more, before she truly spoke.

"My name is Byleth."

She could see Claude's cheekiness subside as he looked at her in confusion, straw clasped between two fingers, like a paintbrush awkwardly held.

"...What?"

"You thought my name was Bailey for three weeks?"

Perhaps the directness of her question was more scolding than she initially realized, but she had no regrets for her tone, upon seeing the sudden flush of dusty rose bloom across his cheeks, at the realization of his own mistake. It was actually quite adorable, seeing his eyes avert from her face for a few seconds. 

It was the most honest she had seen him yet, and that was what warmed her heart the most. Probably because it made her realize that he was just as likely to be as fallible to idiocy and embarrassment as she was. Handsome as he was, he was still human, after all.

"Can we, uh, pretend that I never made that mistake?"

"No promises."

Claude frowned at her, tucking his straw behind his ear like a pencil to put his hand, shaking his head.

"Such cruelty. But I suppose that's partially why I find you so intriguing, oh mysterious maiden of this sea-themed shop."

"We're not in the ocean."

Byleth heard herself reply drily, even if Claude then winked at her, a hand outstretched towards her.

"Ah, but you could rival it in mystical enchantment."

She chose then to tap the sticker she had put on his boba tea cup, drawing his eyes to the words she had written there. That was the hint she had planned to give him, before he had her sit down with him. Claude drew a finger across the words, before tilting his head at her.

_You'll work yourself to death without a break._

____

"No compliment this time?"

____

"More like a tip. Stop drinking so much caffeine."

____

"Aww, so you do care."

____

"I don't want you to fall over dead from caffeine overconsumption. That would ruin this café's reputation."

____

The bark of laughter that came from Claude at that had made her pause. She saw that glimmer of amusement in his eyes, a sliver of light during the first rise of dawn. But in a blink, it had faded, and he leaned back into the couch.

____

"Ouch, you sure know how to let a guy know how you feel about him, huh?"

____

Ironically, that was the last thing she wanted to have Claude know.

____

So she picked up the tray and got up, ready to head back to the safety of the mixing room, until Claude pulled the straw—still unwrapped—from its resting place to block her from leaving, his arm outstretched like a barrier in front of a crossing.

____

"Hey, Byleth?"

____

There was a certain hesitation to the way he said her name, even though she felt her heart skip several beats at the sound. Somehow, she thinks, as he uses his other hand to lift his glass of water up to tilt in her direction, he made it sound familiarly tender, like the warmth of a favored blanket during freezing winter nights.

____

"I toast to my future victory in our game, and for your sworn secrecy of my presence here today."

____

"As long as you finish your water."

____

Claude crossed his fingers, pressing them over his heart, before winking yet again at her, lifting his arm to finally let her pass.

____

"Cross my heart. And, as you so demanded, without hope of an inconvenient death."

____

She would hear later on from Eddie, however, that Lysithea had turned bright red when Claude had directly walked towards her and Cyril when he left an hour later, ruffling her hair as he offered to teach Cyril love poems in another language. It had caused Lysithea to almost attack him then and there with every marine life soft toy she could get her hands on, and it had been Cyril alone who had calmed her down, despite his own flustered reply to Claude's teasing.

____

Despite not having known Claude for very long, it wasn't a surprise to Byleth to hear about him throwing all caution to the wind to stir up mischief, despite his previous 'oath' to her. What she had been surprised by, however, was Cyril’s agreement to learn Almyran from him.

____

The joyous gushing from Flayn and the cheerful applause from Eddie in response to that, had been enough to embarrass Cyril into hiding in the stockroom, where Byleth had found him intently scrubbing at the floor. Knowing him, with his brow furrowed and face pink as he focused solely on the spot before him, Byleth quietly left him one of the granola bars she kept in her backpack, as well as a glass of lemon water, in case he wanted to be left to his own thoughts but got snacking.

____

She did, however, come to a new conclusion that day. And it was, without a shadow of a doubt, the fact that Claude knew how to cause more than one person emotional turmoil.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy folks! 
> 
> Real life stuff got in the way, thus the disappearance, but here's to hoping for more consistent updates for the story! Thank you to everyone who gave such kind words on the first chapter, you have my gratitude ❤
> 
> Chapter 2 is actually way longer than this, since the word count ended up spiralling out of control, so I'm just going to post part 2 in a couple hours after I fix a few things 💞.


	3. Oh, To Be A Charming Plotter Unknowingly Falling For A Stoic Psychic (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth is introduced to Claude's peers.  
> Sothis defends her honor.  
> Claude makes himself two promises.

Her conclusion would soon come back, fully formed with witness accounts, recorded evidence, and one personal encounter, when Claude had come with company the following Monday, just as all the staff members gathered at the counter to be told that Sothis was to have another photoshoot.

Flayn was considering a few options while Byleth was tasked with distracting Sothis, which really just involved sitting at a table where the sun flooded the most light into the café at any given point and just sit there, letting her cat mess around until Flayn called for her. Cyril was cleaning out corners of the shop, leaving Eddie on server duty.

Distracting Sothis depended on two main variables; her level of energy, and the amount of noise in the environment. Given that the café was currently empty of customers, and that Sothis had been tucked out by attacking everyone's feet under the counter, she had chosen a spot to nap by the window, suffocating a pink dolphin underneath her sleeping body. Given that the feline was preoccupied, Byleth allowed herself to continue reading one of the rare few books she owned herself; a collection of Leicester fables that dated back to the age of pre-Unification times.

Claude's voice had broken her attention away from the book, but she hadn't yet looked up at him as he went around greeting staff after hearing the door open from where she sat.

"Morning Eddie! Flayn! Cyril! And Byleth, of course."

She finally looked up when she heard her name called, to see two men she had yet to meet standing behind Claude. One had long violet hair draped across a shoulder, and was far more formally dressed than the other two—because she had never seen someone who pinned red roses to their shirts during seemingly informal occasions—while the other had olive green hair and spectacled eyes that attentively studied every inch of the café with unveiled interest.

"Claude, weren't ya already here this morning?"

Cyril asked suspiciously, fingers tapping against the counter. Claude shook his head, lightly chucking, just as he turned to face Byleth.

"Sharp as always, Cyril. Figured I'd bring some company with me this time though. This is Ignatz, artist extraordinaire, and Lorenz, specialist in all things hoity toity. You already know what I want. Think you could work your psychic powers on them, Byleth?"

Claude had gestured a hand in turn when introducing his acquaintances, and the man named Lorenz huffed when his name was mentioned, sending the former a pointed look.

"I've spent only fifteen minutes in your company, and already you embarrass me in public. The audacity is beneath someone with your position in life."

Lorenz remarked, voice thicker with disdain than blinding fog on a murky spring's eve. He turned his gaze towards Byleth, annoyance softening before speaking to her, expression sincere.

"I sincerely apologize if this man has ever caused you any distress during his patronage at this establishment. He has a limited understanding of the concept of propriety."

"Now Lorenz, there's no need to insult—"

Lorenz then cleared his throat, clapping a hand onto Ignatz's shoulder, startling the latter out of his musings and cutting Claude off from whatever he was about to say. Personally, Byleth found the brief flash of annoyance that had crossed his face amusing, if not also equally interesting. She had known Claude to be rather carefree, after all. 

"Ah! Yes, It's really nice to meet you. Claude's said really good things about this place."

Ignatz finally said, looking sheepish, as Claude wrapped an arm around his shoulders, deliberately knocking Lorenz’s hand off.

"I'm not surprised you're so taken by the sight, Iggy. If I'm being honest, this place is pretty easy on the eyes."

She knew it was a lie when she was telling herself that she didn't feel a shiver down her when Claude's eyes stayed on her as he spoke, tone as light and playful as she had always known him to be. Even if he was a bit of a fool for mixing up her name, he was, unfortunately, still cute, especially with the enthusiasm seeping into his tone as he spoke.

"Do you need us to do anything? Stand here? Answer some questions? Admit any burning secrets?"

Byleth shook her head, stroking Sothis' head a couple times before getting up, tucking her book underneath her arm.

"No, you can go ahead and pay at the counter before finding some seats."

She already had developed a solid opinion of Lorenz as a person, and Ignatz's curiosity concerning the café spoke volumes. So Byleth made her way over to the counter, where Flayn was digging through different bags and comparing dragon wings and cowboy hats, to mermaid scales and fish caps. Eddie offered his two cents while sitting on the counter, and Cyril looked over Flayn's shoulder, unimpressed by her collection.

"I still think ya should have gotten the janitor's outfit too. She needs t' learn how to clean up after herself."

Byleth overheard him say, only catching Flayn's gasp of offense in reply before she went into the mixing room. When looking up on the screen, she realized that only Ignatz and Lorenz had made orders for drinks—the surprise special for each of them, Byleth reads—while Claude had ordered a plate of his usual dark chocolate matcha cookie crisps. She had frowned slightly at that. He had ordered a whole box—which had contained a baker's dozen inside—earlier that morning, alongside his usual drink, so surely having that much in one day was unhealthy for him.

Nonetheless, she turned her attention to the drink orders first, and recalled her mental notes on Claude’s companions for the day.

Given his way of speaking, and personal demands for proper presentation, Byleth already knew Lorenz would be the pickier of the two. While his formal way of speaking reminded her a bit of Flayn, the two had drastically different personalities. Flayn was whimsical, like the sight of the ocean on a sunny beach day; glittering possibilities and vibrant depth beneath the surface, so readily falling into the romance of life. Lorenz, however, reminded her of the aristocracy of old, drunk on their self-importance, even if they held good intentions alongside their gilded pockets.

Nonetheless, his rose had been an excellent starting point for her to pick out a base tea. Unlike Ignatz, whose drink she intended to mix with ice, Lorenz seemed like the sort to enjoy tea served at its original temperature, since he seemed like a bit of a stickler for rules. He seemed like a fan of the classics, so in the end, it didn't take long for her to brew a batch of Bergamot, and pour it into his designated cup after adding some pink rose bursting boba bubbles at the bottom with minimal amounts of syrup, as a nod of reference to his choice in attire. 

Afterwards, she surveyed their available ingredients, looking for something that would fit Ignatz. She had seen the light of appreciation for art in the man's eyes, recalling how his gaze always returned to the murals painted on the café walls. She imagined that his mind was a kaleidoscope of colors shifting with such polychromatic intensity, that it made his outer demeanor softer. Gentler. Sensitive, even, to how the stimuli of the outside world would impact his inner workings.

Something light and floral, she decided, would suffice. So her hand reached out to grab some dried lavender to toss into a saucepan, where it was soon joined by a few spoonfuls of honey, and water already pre-boiled and cooled. Just as she placed said saucepan on a burner and began her search for another container of coconut milk, she heard the curtain be pushed aside, and looked out of the corner of her eye to see Eddie walk in with a smile.

"Greetings, Byleth! I almost forgot to report that I have your lunch ready, whenever you're wanting to take your break. Be sure to take your time to get some good rest! Flayn's offered to watch Sothis while you eat, since she's already decided on the costume."

"Thank you Eddie."

"Of course! By the by, you wouldn't happen to know when Jeritza would be coming around again, would you?"

Byleth picked her head up when hearing Eddie lower his voice at his question. He was nervous, Byleth noted, seeing the way he crossed his arms. She tilted her head once to the side, beckoning Eddie to come closer, waiting for the tea to finish steeping before adding the appropriate amount of coconut milk. She held a hand out briefly in his direction, gesturing for him to continue talking, and so he did.

"There's this new recipe I've been meaning to try out that I wanted more opinions on! So, I figured you could invite him to try it on an off day, for all of us. I know how much he likes cake, so I thought it'd be nice to include him."

It was moments like these that she was glad for her emotionless expression, for it hid the sliver of private delight she felt on Jeritza's behalf. So she let herself take her time to reply, rinsing out the cocktail shaker to pour in the lavender milk tea blend inside, hands shaking the concoction vigorously before she spoke again.

"I'm sure he wouldn't. I'll let you know when he's available. Help me with the compliments?"

She heard Eddie move to pick up a marker, twisting the lid off to gently set aside before swiftly writing words she knew would be heartfelt in their sincerity on Lorenz's cup.

"Sure, Byleth! And thanks again! I wouldn't want to trouble him, after all."

Byleth looked up to stare at him, until he turned to acknowledge her, having put Lorenz's in the automatic plastic wrapper.

“That’s your dead serious face. Is there something I’m missing?”

He joked, just as she handed him Ignatz’s drink to scribble on, but Byleth tapped his hand before letting go of the cup.

"Eddie, the last thing you'd ever be is a burden."

He smiled softly then, switching out the drinks, and upon waiting picking both up to turn them upside down, to prevent leakage from either. 

"I appreciate the reassurance. Really, I do. But it doesn't hurt to check, you know? Everyone has stuff they're busy with. I can understand that!"

Byleth offered an arm out to Eddie, as the other man let out a quiet laugh, and leaned over to give her a side hug. She squeezed him around the shoulders, before patting him on the back, lightly pushing him towards the curtain. It would be so tempting to just tell her colleague about how Jeritza felt.

But knowing her best friend, and the control he held over his own emotions, she let it go. 

"Off you go then, Gatekeeper."

"Orders recieved, milady. I'll make you proud!"

Eddie chuckled, tipping the bill of his hat with a gentleman's flair, before exiting back to the world beyond the curtain, leaving Byleth although with her thoughts and a small smile on her face.

It was gestures like those, she knew, that played such a part in Eddie's endearing nature. After all, when she first started working at the Captain's Cups last year during the start of the Ethereal Moon, he had always been interested in what she had to say—despite not being much of a talker herself—while sharing his own stories, as well as the countless times he had tried to make customers feel at home. So they had become fast friends after that.

During her stages of settling in, Jeritza dropped in sometimes, having heard that the café sold desserts when Byleth got tired of him raiding her fridge. And upon being introduced, despite how most people described him as ‘unapproachable’ or ‘menacing’, Eddie’s cheeriness towards Jeritza had never faltered.

“He’s your friend. And as a fellow Byleth friend, it is part of my job to make him feel welcome!”

Eddie had said, after Byleth tried to insist that the discounts he was planning to offer Jeritza—as agreed upon by Flayn—were unnecessary. But since he could not be persuaded otherwise, Byleth had made Jeritza promise not to stab Eddie if he tried to strike up conversation, or else she would never fight him again.

Things shifted, like a page turned in an old book, when Eddie found out it was Jeritza’s birthday during the Lone Moon. He had actually baked him a whole cake—a gift on his part—and asked Byleth to send Jeritza his regards.

That was when Byleth was sure of two things, when she had brought the box to Jeritza’s apartment, and watched him open it. 

One, that Eddie was a masterful baker, given that the cake was decorated like a goth fanatic’s dream. It had had thick cream cheese colored black as night over red velvet sponge, white chocolate carved into skulls with milk chocolate buttons for the eyes, and raspberry jam for the blood that sprouted out of the skull, where a scythe made out of silver fondue stuck out from the very top. Even now, her mouth still remembered the rich sweetness of the macabre dessert, beautiful and dark in both taste and design. Mercedes, who enjoyed baking, and had come to visit Garreg Mach from her actual home in Fhirdiad for her dear brother's birthday, remarked that she could taste the dedication and heart put into making in the dessert.

And two, that Jeritza had probably caught feelings the moment he had picked up the fondue scythe and bit off the blade. She still remembered the actual smile on his face, before Mercedes had leaned over to wipe his mouth, as though he was still her baby brother, commenting on the jam stains he let smear across the corner of his lip. He had managed to eat almost the entire thing by himself without getting sick—having saved a slice for his sister to bring home, with another being sacrificed to Byleth upon her winning their video game matches that night. 

As a result, despite his absolute distaste for mingling, Jeritza had shown an extraordinary amount of patience whenever Eddie talked to him afterwards. So much, in fact, that Byleth didn’t even need to remind him about not stabbing her colleague, since he genuinely seemed to enjoy the other’s company.

In all fairness, Byleth had only fully caught on because there had been a day where she had been eating cake from Jeritza's plate—because he had taken the last slice of the one she had wanted to eat first—and had already stolen a quarter of it away before his eyes broke away from Eddie chatting amicably with customers across the shop. 

She had found it strange, at first. His expression had been attentive, even if his actual attention had been directed elsewhere. It had broken off as soon as Sothis jumped into his lap, and butted her head against his hand for a snack, and he growled at the sight of Byleth taking yet another bite of his cake. That's when Byleth noticed how Jeritza's eyes would always trail Eddie across the room every time her colleague would re-emerge from behind the curtain for the months that came to follow, up until the current Blue Sea Moon.

Her best friend was just as reserved as she was, and even though his poker face game wasn't as strong as hers— "It's a damned close second, if you two were competing in human expressions of death." Her father had said, after meeting Jeritza for the first time—he was definitely less open to discussing feelings than she was.

So instead, Byleth sent him the occasional clip of Eddie being his usual loveable self during work, and have Jeritza reply with threats of bloody murder. It had become routine, at this point, as normal as how she'd breathe air or stop Sothis from eating random things she'd find around the apartment.

She liked having routines. It was a comfort to have, like the satisfaction that came with stacking surprise orders on a tray, and delivering them to customers to see their first reactions towards the cup of bubble tea she had made, just for them. Even though Eddie insisted on taking the orders himself, she knew she'd still see the reactions of the two new challenges she had been presented.

But, as she was beginning to realize, from the way Claude excitedly waved at her from his seat as soon as she pulled back the curtain, that there had been a new addition to her routine at work. 

"Hey, Byleth! Come sit with us!"

She supposed she had, at some point, given up on avoiding him, seeing as there was some sort of understanding that existed between the two now, unfurling like a curtain unpinned; silk falling slowly to the ground with an inevitable sort of grace like leaves or snowflakes ushered in by the weather of their respective seasons.

Plus, it was fitting, she supposed, that her feelings for Claude were ushered in by the season of summer; all heat-tinged attraction and heart-warming affection that drew her to him like the waves to the moon, alluring in their silent charm. For even now, as she walked towards him, seeing him beckon to her with his hand, body already half turned in her direction, she accepted her fate.

He had become part of her norm.

And though she was perhaps a fool for being simultaneously confused and curious about such emotional novelty—though her mind was always ready to criticize herself for it—she had yet to see the day she ever wanted him to leave it.

***

Claude had been called names of all sorts throughout his life. 

Some were monikers that scarred beyond the surface, reminding him of the prejudices that had yet to be destroyed by the blades of time. Some were nicknames that were affectionate in nature, meant to bolster the bonds he shared between those who first called him such. But those who had wormed past his self-made defenses of paranoia and distrust, were often privy to the slivers of his truths in moments of peace and privacy.

One such truth was that his soul was made partially from the threads of dreams; the kinds of ambitions fit for heroes of old, forged with the sort of awe that came from one's first sighting of the rising sun after endless hours of night. It was this part of him, he knows, that began his love and search for the countless curiosities of life, in all their variety.

Perhaps that was why this place fascinated him. From the drinks one could both simultaneously eat and drink, to the potential psychic with the best poker face he had ever seen, he had grown fond of the Captain's Cups as his own little hideout, away from the drama that currently existed in his work life. He and Lysithea had a silent agreement to not talk about the café, even though the temptation was always so prominent, especially when Hilda often would wonder about Lysithea's rare moments of daydreaming at her desk.

But he honored his word to never mention the place to anyone else, and to tease her only when they were alone. He knew when to be cautious, after all.

That did not mean he wasn’t prone to mistakes.

His first mistake was to take his order with him to the office. Normally when he took his cups with him, it was to go home, knowing how he'd end up burning some midnight oil to finish off work, and needed the tea to stay awake.

At the time, it made perfect sense. He was running later than even Hilda, who made a laughing stock out of the very idea of punctuality, and wanted to sneak a peek to see if Byleth had been drinking any sort of tea that would lead him to making his first guess. She had not, but it had been a mood booster to see her nonetheless, and he had yet to figure out why that was.

He had spent the night before finishing off the plans for the Almyran booth, and working around the clock to reorganize the stands for Adrestia and Faerghus from the notes Edelgard and Dimitri sent him via email, but the sheer back-and-forth he had to do between the two caused him to miss his alarms and oversleep. And while he absolutely refused to let anyone ruin his dreams for the convention, the fact that the royal step-siblings were stubbornly holding onto their own ideals and versions of the argument—that they refused to tell anyone about—definitely made him have to jump through more hoops just to manage some semblance of order.

Lysithea had eyed his chocolate matcha crisps from across the table, and Hilda had poked him with her makeup brushes all day, in attempts to figure out where he had gotten his treats, given that he would occasionally chew on one absentmindedly, the treat sticking out of his mouth like a cigar.

His second mistake was giving a couple of his chocolate crisps to Ignatz. In any other circumstance, he wouldn't have minded, but Lysithea had then come rushing over, demanding her share, and each of his friends—minus Lorenz—had taken some from his box, leaving him with nothing but crumbs to snack on.

The nail that sealed his coffin, his third and final mistake, was to bring his drink to the meeting he was having with Lorenz.

"You sound like an absolute barbarian."

Lorenz had scoffed, arms crossed, utterly unimpressed. And sure, maybe he was chewing those dark jelly pearl squishes—which had at least three different names, depending on who he asked, which is why he gave them his own—a bit more obnoxious than normal because his colleague had been spilling more spiel about responsibility when Claude was already running a three-person job on his own, and he wanted an outlet for his current irritation—the von Hresvleg-Bladdiyd siblings—via his usual target.

But it definitely came to bite him when Lorenz announced he would be joining Ignatz and Claude upon hearing the word 'tea' mentioned in their conversation pre-lunch. Claude had wanted to bring Ignatz to the Captain's Cups, to see if the marine theme would prove further inspiration for the Deridu section of the Leicester booth, and the self-proclaimed tea connoisseur of the Golden Deer had invited himself along, wanting to prove Claude's claim of the shop being the best place for tea wrong.

Byleth, however, had not failed to disappoint. Even if he knew the writing on the labels was not hers—he recognized her handwriting, even if she didn't give as much praise in comparison to Flayn or Eddie—she was certainly the one who made the surprise specials, and had a talent for them. Because for all his pickiness, Lorenz had raised both eyebrows in surprise when taking his first sip of his cup, pausing to savor the taste. That was when a genuine smile crossed his face, and he spoke.

"You have often provided to be a man of questionable taste, Claude, time and time again. But even I cannot help but be impressed at the impeccable decision you made to bring us here. I haven't had such a surprisingly delicious brew of tea before."

"Praise? From Lorenz Hellman 'Fussypants' Gloucester? I think the world might just fall apart with the mere idea that you could be complimenting me."

"Having standards, Claude, and acknowledging when a peer shares them in specific circumstances, does not instigate the need to be called any of your ridiculous names."

"That's a wonderful sketch."

Byleth’s voice cut through the bickering between the two, like a vocal knife well-honed used to stopping squabbles in their place. 

"O—oh, you saw that?"

Claude noted the way Byleth nodded at Ignatz, who seemed to relax at the confirmation.

"It was a very creative take on Leicester's legend about the king of the golden deer. You’re welcome to elaborate on it if you’d like.”

Hearing that surprised Claude. After all, Byleth rarely seemed to voice genuine interest in anything; as rude as it sounded, her tone was hard to gauge at times, given its straightforward monotony. Nonetheless, while he mused on this newfound information about the possible psychic, Ignatz took his digital sketch pen and began pointing at certain areas on the screen, like how a teacher would address a whiteboard with markers.

"Well, I've always considered there to be a certain majesty to the royal that I have envisioned in my head. Given that he's a shapeshifter that finds solace in his animal form, as you can see here, the shadows that surround his human form are meant to represent the burdens he holds as leader. This ombré blend of light and darkness is meant to represent the idea that he finds happiness in his solitude, leaving behind the sins of his fellows to seek out the truth of his soul. It's meant to be a metaphor about how we can only find peace within ourselves and leave the words of others behind to do so."

Claude had yet to see the final designs of the poster Ignatz was talking about, given that it was for the private event that occurred at the end of his latest scheme. But Ignatz never failed to disappoint with his artistic gifts, so Claude knew that he would come through. Plus, it helped to hear the philosophy behind the piece, given his own fondness for deep analysis when it came down to artwork of any sort.

"You can borrow this as a reference if you want. It has quite a few illustrations that are relevant to your piece.”

Byleth offered Ignatz her book, holding it out like an invitation. Ignatz took it, unsure of how to respond, until she tapped the pages with a finger, drawing his attention to the pages. The artist’s eyes widened at whatever Ignatz saw, flipping the pages as he absorbed the art further, before turning back to the owner with excitement. 

"That...That would be wonderful, if it's not too much trouble, of course."

Byleth shrugged, scooping up another mouthful of egg-fried rice. The nonchalance, however, could not hide the way her lips had turned upward for a few seconds upon Ignatz’s agreement. It made Claude wonder what a real smile from her would look like.

"It's the least I could do. You can always just bring it back when you're done."

The air was then pierced with a scratchy male voice, yelling lyrics to a rock riff that had Lorenz’s wrinkling scoff at the blatant damnation. Claude, however, felt himself grinning when he recognized the chorus, playfully nudging Byleth’s elbow with his own.

“Highway to Hell, huh? I didn’t take you to be a _bad_ girl, Byleth.”

Byleth shot up from her seat then, face turned away as she held up her phone to one ear, essentially hiding her expression.

“Please excuse me.”

If Claude didn’t know better, he would have assumed that he had flustered her. But given that she seemed to have calmly walked away, already speaking to whoever was on call with her, he let his burning curiosity cool. He then turned a displeased Lorenz, who had let out a dreary sigh.

“You might find your verbal terrorizing charming, Claude, but it is absolutely atrocious to watch you antagonize women with your pathetic attempts at wooing. You have nothing to show for it, you court jester.”

“Ah, I bet you’re excellent authority on what equals clown town antics, right Lorenz? Tell me, was it that pac man haircut you got five years ago that certified you the role of fool, or was it the time you and Sylvain both lost to Linhardt when trying to prove yourselves the most eligible bachelor at the reunion party months ago?”

Claude then raises an invisible glass to toast to Lorenz’s clear fury, the latter man’s face turning redder by the second, as he angrily sipped on his drink in an attempt to cool down from the former’s retort. Ignatz was still absorbed by the pages of Byleth’s book, lost to his own colorful musings, until a loud thump on the table drew the attention of all three men. Claude was the first to react, chuckling at the sight of their new company, who donned fluffy angel wings and a simple white robe around her torso, as long fuzzie wires were attached to the cloth to dangle a glittering golden halo above her head. 

"I was wondering where you were, you little troublemaker. I see you've come to grace us with your holy presence.”

Ignatz had widened his eyes at the sight of the cat while Lorenz frowned deeply. Sothis, however, had simply blinked at all of them, gaze almost human in its disdain.

"I didn't realize this establishment allowed pets to roam so freely, or be dressed in such...frivolity."

Sothis' eyes narrowed at Lorenz’s words, just as Claude offered his hand to her. Again, she sniffed, and again, he scratched her under the chin. It was a slow process, reaching just enough trust to not be bitten by the feisty feline, but Sothis did seem to relax slightly under his touch. Her owner, however, seemed unaffected by his completely casual contact. And no, he had absolutely not been keeping track, just to see if he could get some reaction out of her.

"She's Byleth's cat, don't be a bully, Lorenz."

Still, Claude had always had a sixth sense for sensing trouble, in its various degrees. Even so, when Sothis had torn her head away, he reached for the phone in his pocket. For just like her owner, she had a few surprises of her own. 

Sothis pounced, landing hard in Lorenz's lap, before vigorously attacking his hair with her paws. At this, Lorenz started shrieking loudly the more the feline got entangled in his hair, causing Claude to shake with laughter as he started recording the entire thing to send to Hilda. 

“I demand that this foul demon be removed! Argh, get out, you _fiend_ !”

__Even Ignatz had to hide his chuckle with a fake cough, despite clearly showing more concern out of Lorenz's two companions as he looked over to the counter, catching the attention of the other café staff members, who all turned at the sound of Lorenz’s distress._ _

__Claude’s personal favorite reaction was Cyril’s, who merely looked at Lorenz’s distress with a shake of his head, expression lacking any sort of pity. The sheer apathy on his face was enough to make Claude laugh even harder._ _

__"Sothis, stop attacking that poor man!"_ _

__Flayn exclaimed, just as Eddie zoomed over to wrestle Sothis out of Lorenz’s hair, cradling her like an infant. Eddie certainly played the role of apologetic father well, given how sincere he was in his apologies while slowly rocking Sothis side to side._ _

__"I am so sorry for her behaviour. Byleth's usually the only one she listens to. She's very fond of silky hair, so, in a way, perhaps it can be taken as a compliment? Not that I'm saying being attacked is fun, by any means—"__

____Lorenz held a hand up in front of Eddie, stopping him from speaking further, and Claude rolled his eyes._ _ _ _

____"As long as it does not happen again, I will overlook this breach in hospitality."_ _ _ _

____Sothis then stuck her tongue out at Lorenz, and privately, Claude wondered if that cute habit was something she had picked up from her owner. He did however, slap Lorenz's hand down, before waving his own nonchalantly._ _ _ _

____"Bah, don't worry about it, Eddie. Lorenz's just got a lance up his ass that's refused to come out since birth."_ _ _ _

____Claude jabbed a thumb in Lorenz's direction, just as the other man turned pink with indignation, the shade a paler cousin to the pretentious red rose pinned to his blazer. Ignatz had been putting Byleth’s book in the bag he had brought with him, when he suddenly lurched forward with a cough that sounded awfully like a masked laugh._ _ _ _

____"Out of all the vulgar—"_ _ _ _

____"Did something happen?"_ _ _ _

____Claude turned his head around to look at Byleth, who held out her arms in Eddie’s direction. Sothis’ expression changed from contentment to wide-eyed innocence when she was placed into Byleth’s care, turning her head to look up serenely as could be. But Byleth paid her no attention, glancing at Lorenz’s frazzled state, before fixing her attention on him._ _ _ _

____"Sothis stood up for herself against Mean Ol’ Lorenz. You should be proud.”_ _ _ _

____She took to her original seat, next to him, expression unreadable as she scratched Sothis behind the ears._ _ _ _

____"I don't know if I should take your word for it, given that you're both mischief makers."_ _ _ _

____Ignatz choked on his drink, whereas Lorenz’s scowl was immediately replaced by a startled laugh. And despite being surprised himself, Claude feigned hurt, resting a hand over his chest, as if struck by a mortal blow._ _ _ _

____"You take that back! Oh, will your torment of me never cease?”_ _ _ _

____And of all manner of ways she had chosen to reply, she had decided to smile. Her eyes showed the first flicker of warmth, the sight as captivating as the mere upturned corners of her lips when her attention was focused on him again, leaving him for a momentary loss for words.___ _

______"Not as long as you visit the shop. You taunt the rest of us just as much.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Because despite the laugh Lorenz was having at his expense, he felt something unfurl inside him, humbly softening like warmed butter over toast, at the sound of Byleth’s silent confirmation over a craving he had long since learned to silence, as she turned to speak to Lorenz._ _ _ _ _ _

_______Acceptance._ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She had no reason to tolerate his antics, even if she was well trained in the arts of chaos-wrangling—Sothis, after all, was hers—and yet she still treated him the same as everyone else. She hardly knew him, and while the cynic in him remarked on it being customer hospitality, the idealist wondered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Who was she, to so readily pick up on historical details, and to offer assistance unbidden? To be so sharp-eyed, that she could guess one’s preferences for beverage by mere glance, knowing that they would be satisfied?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He had known, since he was a boy, that the world would always end up overflowing with new mysteries to solve, to rival the number of his treasured stars. And though he knew himself to be ambitious, he knew when to act, whenever knowledge was in his grasp._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________So as he watched Byleth gently coax a disgruntled Sothis into a nervous Lorenz’s lap, resting his face in a hand, he made his decision._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He would figure out why Edelgard and Dimitri were being such pains in his ass.  
And he would figure out the enigma that was Byleth of the Captain’s Cups._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He was so fond of challenges, after all.  
Perhaps the growing desire to see her truly smile—wider than her tiny display of upturned lips—was an indication that he was growing fond of her too._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________(And with the way Ignatz looked up from his tablet to glance between Byleth and Claude, hand quietly sketching in the latter’s expression, it wouldn’t be long until others figured it out too.)_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've stuck around this long, thank you for staying and reading this story ❤❤  
> Last month was wild, thus the delay + the double chapter update, so fingers crossed that I'll get Chapter 4 up and running soon 😌💞
> 
> embarrassing Claude hours have been low so far, but they will reach new highs in the upcoming chapters 😌😂
> 
> Question, if anyone feels compelled to answer:  
> What's your favorite bubble tea combination? 👀👀


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